


a return for finality

by shxme



Series: and so they are alone [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Emotional Problems, M/M, hurt comfort, parental problems i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:43:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18311228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shxme/pseuds/shxme
Summary: After months, they return to Ionia looking for a resolution.A kill for Kayn.





	a return for finality

**Author's Note:**

> set xx months (less than a year) after the end of 'and so they are alone.' if you haven't read that first I heftily recommend you do so as this will prolly not make a ton of sense. 
> 
> this prompt was funded by @so-xu on tumblr! hooray. :^) I wanted to write some resolution for zed and kayn.

When Rhaast had first heard the idea, he’d laughed at him. It had stung Kayn’s pride, and it wasn’t until Rhaast drew him close and promised him a thousand perfect battles that he’d stopped sulking.

At this point they both knew how to pull each other’s strings.

   

But it’s still no small victory on Kayn’s part that they’ve returned to Ionia. He’s different now. Shadow magic adds some color to his skin and a chance of blue in his eyes.

He wonders if Zed will recognize him.

 

 **_“Let me go with you,”_ ** Rhaast growls against his throat.

He would, they’re never apart like this. Ever since they left Ionia in the first place they’ve been inseparable. But this kill will be Kayn’s own, and he knows that Rhaast would also want to strike the final blow. He always does.

He pulls away from Rhaast’s hold and presses his lips against against the flat plating between the darkin’s eyes. A common gesture.

“If I’m not back by dawn—” Shieda tells him. “It shouldn’t take that long.”

He ties his long hair into a braid. Even though he hasn’t done it in a while his fingers act on their own, muscle memory taking over. Rhaast leans against a tree and watches him, mood clearly stormy.

The sun has set.

 

***

 

He has a short sword strapped behind his back. Rhaast never parts with his scythe now that he has his form, so Kayn has had to fallback to weapons he once used. Any sharpened blade should still do the job. He wonders if his room is occupied now, perhaps a new acolyte is there, training every day. Another worthless cog in Zed’s machine.

Through the trees he spies Kinkou Monastery on the mountain. Looming in the darkness like a ghost. It stirs a feeling in him that he can’t explain. Not homesickness. Shame and regret.

He notices the sentries in their usual spots. Two roosting in the treeline, two more on the edge of Kinkou proper. Shieda remembers all the nights he’d been stuck as a sentry. A waste of his talents. He debates on killing them but ultimately decides against it. It will take too much time to make sure no one finds out and he wants to get this over with.

   

A shadow. He enters the quiet halls undetected, dark surrounding him like a second skin. Even after all these months the monastery is still familiar. Curiosity drives him through the western hall towards his room. It’s still so achingly familiar. The way the fading light would cut stark shadows through the tall windows. Now the stars peek sweetly at him as he wanders.

Zed’s quarters are in the other direction but Kayn can’t resist a look. He crosses into his old room silently. All the furniture is the same, but a new body rests where he once did.

He doesn’t know why he feels so betrayed. As if he should expect any different. Kayn reaches for the sword on his back. One spiteful gash across their throat. He does not know this new acolyte and he will die a mystery.

He grew up in that chamber. So much of his life spent there.

   

Out of the room now, exiting the western hall to move deeper inside Kinkou. Shieda sees movement ahead and waits as a faceless woman moves past him. He’d often gone down this way for private lessons with Zed. He wonders if anyone else receives them now.

   

The monastery only seems to get darker as he continues. Kayn feels as if the walls are closing in on him, suffocating. He misses Rhaast, if only he was here to burn away the anxiety with his anger.

 

Zed’s quarters are closed, like they always are. Shieda leans his head against the wall. Resolution is a weight in his chest.

He will surpass Zed one day.

That day is today. He draws his blade—nothing feels quite like Rhaast did—and breathes in. One breath for a life lost.

Magic comes so naturally to Kayn now. He barely has to think or concentrate for the wall to give way to his shadows. Zed had taught him at first, showed him how to coax the dark to his fingers like a skittish dog. He passes through the wall with hardly a thought.

It is noticeably colder inside and a single candle draws his attention to the center of the wide room. Zed sits away from him, shrouded by shadow and clearly meditating. He’d taught Kayn the rigidity of that pose early on.

Bitterness at his eyes.

   

Zed doesn’t turn, existing in his own world. Kayn moves closer. He would say something if he could, but words are dry on his tongue and Zed would have warning then. Out of all his kills this will be the hardest.

He raises the sword, could dig it into his old master’s back. Zed taught him all the spots for quick kills. Showed him the fragile spine, the back of the neck and the precious arteries that guarantee death when severed.

Rhaast would have the strength to land the killing blow, Shieda knows this for a fact.

It is the unfortunate moment of hesitation that allows a surprise attack. A misty shade knocks him to the ground and the blade clatters to the ground, strikingly loud. The regret in his unsurety immediately washes over Kayn. He scrambles towards his sword. If he dies tonight then he won’t ever be able to see Rhaast again.

Zed is upon him now, dark rolling off of him like ocean tides. His eyes glow so _red_ and Kayn wants Rhaast. Misses Rhaast.

   

However, the man does recognizes him, pausing with one blade jutting out of it’s hidden scheathe on his arm. Kayn uses the time to snatch the sword up and—

“Shieda.” As metallic as he remembers.

 _“Zed.”_ his mouth works after a moment. He’s never this emotional over a target. This isn’t right. His weapon feels clumsy and awkward.  

The realization that after all this time—after Kayn’s become _so_ powerful—he still cannot accomplish what he wants—

It is crushing.

“A sword?” Zed jerks his head toward the weapon in his hand. “Did you lose the scythe?”

“No. I didn’t.” Kayn swallows. “I came to kill you.”

_I’m sorry it came to this._

His strike is lightning fast but the target is just as quick. Before the blade connects— _”The crest of the throat, here.” A hand guides his fingers up. “Right here.”—_ Zed vanishes into shadows.

Kayn whirls around. He knows this trick well but it still catches him off guard when Zed explodes out of the darkness. He gets his sword up in time to block the heavy strike. A harsh _clang_ rings in his ears. Now. Now Zed has time to make a strike, just reach under with his second blade and and gut Kayn raw. He’s seen the motion plenty of times.

But he doesn’t. Instead, a gloved hand snags his wrist and raises it up between them. They’re so close but Kayn feels so isolated.

“This isn’t just shadow magic,” Zed says, examining his patterned skin.

He backs away, ripping himself out of his old master’s grip.

“Stop.” Eyes are stinging again.

Zed looks at him.

“Who has my room now?” Kayn doesn’t know why that matters to him so much.

A rusty laugh. “Did you expect me to leave it empty forever?”

“I _expected_ you to— _care_ —about me.” Every word is a struggle. Why is this so hard? "Like—Rhaast—” The name slips out on it’s own. Shieda misses him.

Zed tilts his head. “Care enables weakness.” Quiet.

His anxiety simmers down. A dreadful calm. He can do it now.

“It’s my fault.”

Kayn looks up at him, surprised. Tries to see past the red eyes and the years they’ve spent together.

 

“Perhaps I was weak after all,” Zed admits.

 

An admission. It slides between Kayn’s ribs and lodges itself in his heart. The man who raised him with bloodshed and fight. It dawns on him what the assassin means with those words.

“I’m not weak,” he says meekly.

Zed’s blade slides back into its sheathe with a _click._ “You belong to the weapon now, don’t you?”

Kayn misses him.

“It’s my fault that things turned out this way.” Zed turns away. “My incompetence enabled your own.”

He sounds sad. Kayn’s never heard that. Everything is upside down. He wants to defend himself and prove that he is _not_ incompetent, but he couldn’t even kill Zed. Preparing mentally for weeks only to fail at the perfect moment.

 

He understands what the assassin means now.

 

“I can’t fault you for tampering with dark magic.” Zed’s eyes seem to burn an even bloodier red. “But get out of my sight before I punish you for this feeble attempt.”

Kayn puts his sword away. A pause. “I’m not coming back.”

Zed settles into his meditation pose. The candle flickers like a heartbeat.

“If you do then you’ll die here.”

 

Kayn doesn’t know what to do. Feels so—human. Rhaast always picks on him for that. This time he doesn’t care. He is unused to dealing with emotions like this. They always hit him too strongly.

“I—will surpass you.” His voice shakes so slightly. The man who _raised_ him. The closest thing to a parent.

Zed does not answer.

 

He leaves the way he came, desperately glad that Rhaast had not come after all.

 

***

   

He returns to the clearing before dawn. A mess. Rhaast is still waiting, sitting by the embers of their dead campfire, and he clambers into his lap before he even has the chance to speak. For a few minutes Shieda shakes, overwhelmed, until Rhaast’s warm hands on his back calm him down.

 ** _“Is it done?”_** Rhaast asks once the shaking has stopped. His voice is a soothing rumble in Shieda’s ear.

The sea of emotions threatens to drag him back down again. He doesn’t know what to feel. Sadness first and foremost. Regret. He wishes he knew _sooner_. He wishes he knew and it didn’t hurt so much.

Kayn lets himself find balance in Rhaast’s comforting hold.

If care enables weakness, then he supposes it just can’t be avoided.

“It’s done,” he whispers against the darkin’s neck.

_“The crest of the throat, here.”_

Rhaast hums with approval.

 

Shieda struggles to undo his braid, movements clumsy. Rhaast’s hands hover by his hips until he makes a frustrated noise and sharp fingers replace his own, quickly letting his hair loose.

 _No more braids._ Not after Kinkou. He’s grown past that.

   

Rhaast keeps him close for a long time. Kayn is weak for it. Weak for Rhaast and his warmth.

The secret sweetness of knowing someone is not afraid to care the same way he does.

**Author's Note:**

> ah their relationship is so complicated.
> 
>  
> 
> my tumblr is @no-shxme, feel free to send me questions or prompts or smth. you can also see my trello list there which shows what im currently working on. 
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. thank you all for your support. <3


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